XXVI

Summer Preston

"She's calling." My voice cut through the low hum of the movie playing on the screen, drawing Nolan and Adrianna's attention.

Instead of letting me drown in self-pity, they had ordered Crumbl Cookies, their idea of emotional support. It wasn't the worst plan. The moment I bit into the Cookies & Cream cookie, a wave of temporary relief washed over me.

"What did she say?" Nolan mumbled around a bite of the worst cookie Crumbl had ever made—the semi-sweet chocolate chunk.

"She said she's calling, not texting, dumbass," Adrianna scoffed, launching a pillow at him.

I shook my head at their antics and got up, phone in hand, walking out of the room as I answered. Leaning my back against the hallway wall, I took a steadying breath before pressing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Summer, can I come over? We need to talk about what happened."

A bitter laugh slipped from my lips. "Talk about how you have a wife and a girlfriend at the same damn time?" My irritation spiked just saying it out loud.

"She's not important to me, just hear me out—"

"I trusted you," I cut her off. My voice trembled—not with sadness, but with frustration. "I trusted you when I didn't even want to. After you walked away, I still gave you another chance, and this is how you repay me? Do you know how fucking stupid I felt when she introduced herself as your wife—"

"Can you open the door?" she interrupted, her voice urgent now. "I'm outside. You're going to talk to me one way or another—I don't care if you yell, but we're having this conversation because I'm not losing you again."

I exhaled sharply, gripping my phone tighter. "I never agreed to talk."

"I don't care," she shot back, and as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Adrianna and Nolan peeked out from my room, eyes wide with curiosity. I hung up the phone as I looked between the two.

"You two need to leave," I said, snatching the Crumbl box from them.

"What? Why?" they groaned in unison.

"My girlfriend is here." I paused, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of my own words. "Or I don't know if she's my girlfriend, since she's married, but you get the point."

"We'll leave, but we're coming back," Adrianna warned, pointing a finger at me before turning to Nolan. "Do you want to get Cane's while we wait?"

"I was thinking Sweet Frog," Nolan mused, raising an eyebrow.

"Why not both?" Adrianna proposed.

Nolan sighed dramatically. "If you insist."

"You two are ridiculous. You just had Crumbl," I deadpanned.

"Oh, shut up," Adrianna scoffed. "We're literally going to bring you something back, and I bet you'll eat it."

"Fair point. Just get out."

They grabbed their keys and slipped on their shoes.

"We'll be back soon. Get your wife back," Adrianna called over her shoulder—then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shit, sorry. Too soon."

Nolan stifled a laugh until I smacked him upside the head. "Get out of my house," I groaned, ushering them out the door.

As I turned back, my eyes landed on Solené's car in my driveway. The moment she stepped out, my stomach twisted. She looked hesitant but determined, her eyes locking onto mine as she approached.

"May I come in?" she asked softly.

I didn't respond. Instead, I stepped aside, motioning for her to enter.

She lingered by the door, fidgeting with her necklace.

She was nervous.

She should be.

I walked into the kitchen, and she followed closely behind. My movements were slow, deliberate. I reached for a glass. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No," she said quickly. "I just want to talk."

Before I could move, she was behind me, fingers wrapping gently around my arm, stopping me mid-motion.

"Talk," I said flatly, crossing my arms as I turned to face her.

She took a deep breath. "When I left, I was in a bad place." Her voice was quieter now, like she was afraid to break something fragile between us. "My parents tried to help me, but they couldn't. It was something I had to work through alone. As my career took off, I got more publicity, more exposure. And then my parents introduced me to Drew—"

I turned my head away, unwilling to meet her gaze.

"Baby, why aren't you looking at me?" she murmured, her fingers gently tilting my chin so our eyes aligned.

I didn't answer.

She sighed, then suddenly turned around, putting her back against mine.

I frowned. "What are you doing?"

"If you won't look at me, I'll give you time," she said softly. "I'll talk, and we'll keep our backs to each other. When you're ready, we'll face one another. Okay?"

I hesitated. "Okay."

She took another breath before continuing. "My parents introduced me to Drew and her family. She was interested in modeling, so I gave her advice, and we got along. Then my parents asked me to marry her. Said it would help her, that she'd appreciate it. And I... I didn't care. I was numb. I was drowning in work, moving from gig to gig, nothing mattered."

Without thinking, I reached behind me, my fingers searching for hers. The moment I found them, she squeezed my hand with the same intensity I held hers.

"We got married," she continued. "It was... fine, I guess. I never saw her as my wife. We were just friends. But then things got bad. She started using, surrounding herself with people who didn't have her best interests. I tried to help her, but it always backfired. Every time I tried to leave, she ran to my parents, and they—" She exhaled sharply. "They threatened to disown me."

My grip on her hand tightened.

"I spiraled. I was lost for a long time. But then I met Spencer—August's girlfriend. She helped me. She convinced me to get therapy, to see that I didn't need them." Her voice broke slightly. "I needed you. So I packed my bags... and I left. And now I'm here."

I swallowed hard. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She turned around now, finally facing me. "Because when I saw you, it all went out the window. All I could focus on was us." She exhaled, shaking her head. "I know that's not an excuse, but Drew was never my wife to me. Not in the way that mattered. The only person I want to wear that title is you."

Her fingers brushed over the back of my hand, her touch warm despite the cold weight of everything between us.

A heavy silence settled between us, thick with unspoken words and everything we still hadn't said.

Solené was watching me, her expression open, vulnerable. I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe her. But the weight of the lies sat between us like an unmovable force.

"You should've told me," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," she admitted. "And I'm sorry. For all of it."

Her apology felt real. But it also felt too easy.

"You don't get to just show up here, spill your tragic backstory, and expect me to fall back into your arms like nothing happened," I said, my words sharper than I intended. "I spent months trying to forget you. Trying to convince myself that you were just another mistake. That I was stupid for ever thinking you could be different."

Her eyes darkened with something unreadable. "And did it work?"

I clenched my jaw. "What?"

"Forgetting me," she said softly. "Did it work?"

I hated her for asking that. Hated her for the way her voice wrapped around my name like it was something sacred. Hated her for the way my heart ached just standing this close to her.

I could lie. I could tell her that I had moved on, that I had built walls so high she could never touch me again.

But we both knew the truth.

And she could see it.

Solené exhaled, stepping forward cautiously, as if afraid I might bolt. "I don't expect you to forgive me tonight. I don't even expect you to believe me. I just... I needed you to know the truth. Because losing you once nearly destroyed me. I won't survive it happening again."

Her voice wavered on the last words, and something inside me cracked.

I hated her. But I also hated how much I still loved her.

I ran a hand through my hair, stepping back. "I need time."

She nodded, swallowing hard. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait."

That was the problem.

She always said the right things.

And I always wanted to believe them.

*

I didn't sleep that night.

Even after Solené left, her scent lingered in my house, in my clothes, in the space between my ribs.

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word, every glance, every moment that passed between us.

The next morning, I found myself parked outside a café before I even realized where I was going.

My fingers hovered over my phone screen before I finally pressed the call button.

Adrianna answered on the second ring.

"You better be calling to tell me that you and Sol made up," she said instead of a greeting.

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Adri, shut the hell up."

Nolan's voice chimed in the background. "Wait, wait, did you?"

"No!" I snapped, exasperated. "I just... I don't know what to do."

Adrianna sighed. "Do you want to see her again?"

I hesitated.

That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it?

Because despite everything, despite the betrayal, the lies, the wife—I did.

I still wanted her.

And that scared the hell out of me.